


We See Rather a Lot of Each Other

by 2babyturtles



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gift Fic, Holmes Brothers, Humor, Jealousy, Loneliness, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft IS the British Government, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2babyturtles/pseuds/2babyturtles
Summary: Anonymous on Tumblr said: Anthea and lestrade clicking as friends and mycroft getting jealous





	We See Rather a Lot of Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> There's no information about the real name of the woman who told John her name is 'Anthea'. For sake of having SOMETHING, I used the actress's name, Lisa McAllister. The names of her husband and son are made up.

_Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them. ~ Jodi Picoult_

* * *

 

“Back again?” she smiles, peering at him from the other side of the car. He returns the expression as he takes his seat and closes the door.

“Just back actually. Get home from vacation and a car’s waiting for me. You know I don’t have a say in it though,” he responds with a playful grimace.

She laughs as she sits back more comfortably and slides her phone into the back of the seat in front of her. “Well, don’t say that too loud. I’m sure Mr. Holmes would be thrilled to know he’s beaten you, Greg.”

“Beaten me? Who said he’s beaten me?”

“The bags under your eyes, the shaving cut on your jaw line, and the worn sort of resignation in the way you carry yourself. Your job’s not that hard, Detective Inspector. One of the Holmes brothers beat you this week. So which one is it?” Humor sparkles in her eyes and she raises an eyebrow at the man beside her as the cab pulls away from the street.

Greg sighs, sinking into the seat as the air pours out of him. “Alright, Lisa. You’ve got it. But you know, my job _is_ hard.”

Lisa laughs more openly now, enjoying that she won. “I didn’t say it isn’t hard,” she coos, “I said it’s not _that_ hard. Surely if it was you’d be grateful for any interference from either Sherlock or Mycroft. Or both.”

Thinking for a moment, Greg nods decidedly. “Both,” he says.

The trip is short and Lisa gets out with the Detective Inspector. He raises a questioning eyebrow at her and she shrugs. “Usually we go further. I haven’t had the chance to ask about your dog yet.”

He smirks and fills her in with the latest update from the vet, talking about nothing important as he follows her to the meeting spot with Mycroft. “What about Thomas? How’s your little boy doing?”

She smiles, always happy for an opportunity to talk about family. “He’s good! Walking now. He looks more like Stuart every day.”

“Who’s Stuart?” Mycroft asks, appearing around the corner as they approach

“Jesus,” Lestrade swears, taking a step away from the man. “Sorry. Hi, Mycroft. This about Sherlock? He’s gone for the weekend I think.”

Pulling his face into a disgruntled scowl, Mycroft leans heavily on his umbrella as he stares at the two of them. “So he is,” he replies sarcastically. “Who’s Stuart?”

“Lisa’s husband,” Greg responds offhandedly. “Why is that so important?”

“Lisa?” Mycroft sighs.

Greg exchanges a glance with the woman beside him and then points at her. “She is?”

“Ms. McAllister? I thought your name was ‘Anthea’,” he grimaces again, clearly uncomfortable.

“No, sir. That’s what I told Dr. Watson.”

Mycroft’s attention drifts back to Greg and he seems for a moment to be sizing him up. “And you told this man your real name? Why?” Not sure whether he’s in danger at all, Greg remains quiet. Something about his friendship with Mycroft’s personal assistant no longer seems like a good idea.

“We’re friends, sir. We see rather a lot of each other when you call for him,” Lisa responds, confirming both Greg’s hopes and his fears.

“’Friends’?” Mycroft laughs, leaning backward as if the whole thing is rather hilarious.

“Yes, sir. He was enquiring after my husband, Stuart, and son.”

“Is this what you needed me for?” Greg finally interrupts. “I do have other things I’d prefer to spend my evening doing.”

Mycroft’s expression returns to a more serious one and he mouths the word _friends_ again, apparently in disbelief. “I don’t have any friends,” he murmurs quietly.

Greg and Lisa exchange another glance before Greg steps forward and claps a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder. “Hey now, you’ve got us,” he urges, smiling awkwardly.

With an eyebrow raised and a menacing look in his eye, Mycroft hardly seems to relish in the idea. “Thank you, Detective Inspector, for your… _kindness._ In any case, yes, this is about Sherlock. I’d like you to go after him, see if there’s anything you can do to help. Don’t tell him I sent you of course.”

Greg sighs but can’t refuse the offer. He’s not sure whether it’s because he feels bad, just wants to watch out for Sherlock, or is too terrified of Mycroft to say no. In any case, he agrees. “Where am I going then?” he asks.

“Baskerville,” Mycroft murmurs, his eyes still unfocused.

“Like the dogs? The big dog?”

“Yes, Detective Inspector. The Baskerville Hound.”

 


End file.
